


Fireworks

by ilse_writes



Series: Partners [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: 4th of July, Androids don't have to dress for the weather, Anti-Android Sentiments (Detroit: Become Human), Fireworks, Fourth of July, Gavin slowly starts to see his partner as a real person, M/M, Patrolling the streets, Upgraded Connor | RK900 is a real boy, Upgraded Connor | RK900 is insecure, because Gavin, black turtlenecks, some foul language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-06 01:23:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19052401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilse_writes/pseuds/ilse_writes
Summary: Because they need every capable body on the streets, Gavin and RK900 are patrolling the streets on the Fourth of July. RK900 gets assaulted and they have to find a missing kid. Just another day on the job, really. Gavin slowly starts to see his partner as a real person.





	Fireworks

**Author's Note:**

> Although not published before Traffic Jam, this story takes place before that one.

This was the first Fourth of July since the android revolution. Maybe that was why Gavin had already put his first offender in a holding cell by two in the afternoon, just an hour into his shift. Before the revolution he might not even have arrested the guy, but now androids had equal rights and shit and it had become ‘assault of an officer’ instead of ‘damaging of property’.  
Not that the RK900 actually got hurt. Its shirt was ruined; cooking oil splattered all over its sleeve and some on the side of its pants. The oil had been hot, ready for the food to go in. If it were not for the android’s inhuman reflexes, RK900 might have been hit full in the face. Now it was just the left arm and part of its upper leg. The hot oil would severely burn a human, even through a layer of clothing, but the android had not even flinched and immediately proceeded to bring its assaulter to the ground in a swift and controlled movement.  
They were working together for, what, over three months now? Long enough for Gavin to know his partner was holding back its strength most of the time. For fuck’s sake, he had seen it yank a car door off the chassis like it was tearing a piece of paper in two. The way the android was holding its assaulter to the ground was surely a bit uncomfortable for the man, yet it was nowhere near hurting him. Hell, Gavin probably hurt him more when he pushed him into the holding cell, making him bump his shin into the low bench.

The RK900 was by the front counter, holding its hand against the terminal in that weird android way. The skin was peeled back from its hand, exposing the white and grey plastic underneath. It still weirded Gavin out - though in a fascinating kind of way - and shit like this was a firm reminder that his partner was not made of flesh and blood. His partner was an android: a walking, talking supercomputer wrapped in a hull that resembled a human body closely. Only it was not human, it was way too perfect for that.  
There was not one ugly CyberLife issued android - RK900 was no exception, Gavin was not blind, you know - and ever since their introduction they were all programmed with the same polite, friendly attitude. Androids didn’t have ‘off days’, they never got sick, they didn’t get sweaty and smelly from physical labour. It was all fake. Gavin hated that.  
Granted, ever since they started deviating, the android population became more diverse. Gavin experienced first hand that Connor wasn’t always gentle and polite. Androids could be assholes too. Perfect looking assholes with perfect track records and more endurance than the most fit police officer.

Connor had been the Deviant Hunter and the RK900 was meant to replace the plastic wonder boy, meaning it was a Connor-plus: bigger, faster, meaner. It was supposed to be better too, yet it had nothing on its predecessor when it came to appearing human. It had a giant stick up its mechanic ass, making it stiff and awkward in most social situations. That annoyed Gavin to no end, especially in the beginning. Having to work with an android was one thing, but did it have to be such a  _ machine _ ?  
However, Gavin was stuck with it as a partner, something that Captain Fowler had made very clear from the first day on. He had made peace with that, even if it took at least three weeks before he stopped acting outright hostile and another three or four before he started asking for things instead of just ordering the android around.

He had been without a partner for the last three years, save for temporary partners when he worked particularly large cases. The year before that, his first year as a detective, he had Lee as his partner, until the guy transferred to another precinct. Probably fed up with Gavin’s bullshit, he wouldn’t be the first one. Even as a beat cop he never kept a partner for long, he always made sure he didn’t get close to them anyway.   
A psychologist would maybe tell you that was because his very first partner got shot and died, his colleagues at the precinct would probably say it was because he’s a major asshole, and his grandmother would tell him he didn’t know how to make friends if his life depended on it. Well, grandma died eight years ago and Gavin refused to see a psychologist except for his bi-yearly mandatory psych evaluation, so his colleagues were probably right. He’s the resident asshole. So what? We all need a place in society.

Before the end of the day most of these holding cells would be occupied, if not all. The weather was exceptionally good today for Detroit’s standards, hitting the low eighties when Gavin started his shift. That, combined with the day’s celebrations and a lot of alcohol, made people misbehave. Things were tense too, some people took up this day to make a point of being free, being  _ human _ . 

When people were allowed to return to the city after the evacuation, the ones that didn’t return often were the ones that loathed androids - free, sentient androids, they were fine with the machines they could bitch around. If they had the funds to start a life elsewhere, they did just that. Not everyone had that opportunity. So there were still a lot of people that returned to their crappy homes, unable to start a life elsewhere, forced to live in the city that birthed the androids they despised so much. Michael Sadílek was probably one of those people; a sanitation worker that was celebrating the 4th of July too loudly, reason for the police to show up on his lawn. Too bad one of those officers was clearly an android - with its limited facial expressions, piercing stare and impeccable posture RK900 could not be mistaken for a human - and Mr. Sadílek was a little too intoxicated already to remember why it wasn’t smart to insult or even assault an officer of the law.

When he came up to RK900, the android pulled its hand away from the terminal, artificial skin flowing back from its wrist to cover the whole hand again.  
“Mr. Sadílek is booked in,” the android said in that voice that was similar to Connor’s, though it was a tad lower and missed some of the natural cadence of its predecessor.

“Good. We’ll process him tomorrow, give him some time to sober up.” Gavin wrinkled his nose. “Fuck, you smell like fried food. Disgusting!”  
He plucked on the sleeve of the android’s black turtleneck sweater. Fucking 82 degrees outside and the android was still wearing a sweater that covered it completely from its neck to its wrists. Foregoing wearing its jacket was the only thing RK900 had done to concede to the weather.  
The black fabric stuck to its arm and from up close Gavin suddenly saw why.   
“Fuck! That shit has melted your sweater!”

“It appears it has,” RK900 said, looking down its arm like it registered it for the first time. 

“You don’t…” Gavin stammered, having trouble processing what he saw. The melted fabric was stuck to the skin underneath, it made his own skin crawl. “You don’t feel that?”

“If you are asking whether it hurts, detective, the answer is no.”

“Fucking Terminator,” Gavin grumbled, stepping back. “Go get changed, I can’t take you back out on the streets if you smell like corn dogs.”  
Changing sounded like a good idea to him too. The android might smell like it was dipped in frying oil, that smell clung to him now too.  He marched down to the locker room, not looking back to see if his partner followed him. He knew it would, like a silent, looming shadow. 

A clean shirt (luckily he had two of those dark blue polos with the DPD logo on the breast) and a fair amount of body spray made Gavin feel clean again.   
Behind him, the android had peeled off its sweater, except for the left sleeve. The sleeve clung to its upper arm and RK900 seemed unsure of what to do with it.

“Just rip it off, dipshit.”

“That would damage the fabric.”

Gavin rolled his eyes. “That bloody turtleneck is already ruined. Just take it off and put something else on.”  
The way the RK900 hesitated and glanced towards its locker, made him pause.  
“You don’t have a change of clothes in there?”

“That woman who slashed her knife at me had me needing a change of clothes yesterday too,” it said, the slightest of frowns visible. RK900 had met its fair share of anti-android sentiments this week already. “This was the last of my black sweaters. The new ones I ordered are delivered tomorrow, with today being a federal holiday.”

“Then put something else on,” Gavin suggested gruffly. He was not in a real rush to get back to patrolling the streets like a beat cop, as the lack of personnel had them do today. However, he was not comfortable with discussing the android’s minimal wardrobe, like they were… you know… friends? 

The android itself was not comfortable either; it held its free arm in front of its chest as if to shield itself. Not like Gavin was ogling it or something, even though this was the first time he saw his partner shirtless. He knew better than to stare at the android. So he  _ didn’t _ , all right? RK900 still acted like he was being stared at by a bunch of pervs, hunched over and ill at ease. It didn’t take a genius to link its current discomfort to the preference for covering clothes. 

A cardboard box stowed away on top of the lockers offered a solution. It held long sleeve shirts with the DPD logo, used for last year’s baseball competition. They were baseball shirts, but because they were a solid navy that didn’t show too much.  
Gavin pointed it out to the android. “There should be a tin can sized shirt in there.”

There. That was enough niceties for today. Time for a smoke.

 

***

 

They didn’t run into maniacs throwing cooking oil again. They did have to respond to a dozen calls of disturbance, most of them quickly settled. It did help to have a looming android with piercing eyes at your back. 

Gavin stopped by a deli for dinner, after which they made their way to City Park, where the largest crowds would gather for the fireworks tonight. There were lots of families gathered in the park, sitting down on picnic blankets and sharing foods and drinks with each other. There wasn’t much to do for them here, except be visible and keep an eye on things. Being a policeman, or even a detective, wasn’t always that exciting. Sometimes it was a walk in the park. Literally.

RK900 walked next to him, its hands clasped behind its back and its eyes constantly scanning their perimeters. You had to look real close, but then you could recognise the way its eyes moved and the miniscule jerks of its head. Or you just had to spend almost four months with the plastic prick on the desk perpendicular to yours, that works too when it comes to getting to know your partner’s mannerisms. 

“There are minors drinking alcohol at our 10 o’clock.” 

“Shocker,” Gavin deadpanned, not bothering to look. 

“Drinking under the age of 18 is illegal in the state of -” 

“Yeah yeah, tin can, I know. I didn’t get my badge out of a kids meal.” Gavin sighed and stopped walking. “How much under age are they?”

RK900 was silent for a second, scanning the teenagers. “Varying from 58 days to eleven months.”

“Shit, lighten up, you bag of bolts! It’s the Fourth of July, let them have a little fun.” Gavin started walking again, the android following him after a moment of hesitation.

“Officers?”

They both turned to the sound of the voice. There was a man behind them, about Gavin’s age, maybe a little younger. He looked distraught. 

For a second Gavin thought about correcting the man on addressing them as officers, yet he’d be doing that all day if he wanted civilians to call him by his proper rank right away. Too much of a hassle

“How may we help you, sir?” asked the android kindly, inclining its head a little. It’s a trick it picked up from Connor, one of the things that should make it more approachable. The effect is still a little disconcerting, because RK900’s friendly face is pretty blank. 

The man in front of them blinks at the android and then turns his gaze to Gavin.   
“I’ve lost my son!”

A little kid who wandered off in the crowd; it’s the policemen equivalent of a kitten in a tree. Nevertheless, Gavin asked the right questions, the man had a recent picture he could show them on his phone, and soon they were looking out for a boy of four years old, with short black hair, wearing a purple T-shirt, named Jackson.   
The mother was waiting by their picnic blanket, in case the little boy returned on his own; the other family members were fanning out over the park. RK900 sent the boy’s picture to the other police officers that were scattered throughout the park. 

“Come on… let’s walk down wind,” Gavin said, taking the lead.

“What has the wind to do with the missing child?” The android was looking at him curiously. 

He shrugged, kicking a pebble on the path. “Something my grandma always said. Kids walk with the wind in their back when they wander off.”

“You don’t appear worried, detective. Isn’t a missing child cause for concern?”

“It can be, yes,” Gavin admitted with a small nod. “However, there are tons of kids and parents in this park. Chances are the kid just saw something he liked and went after it.”  
Of course, there was also a chance that some pervert took the kid, but it didn’t feel like that. Gavin trusted his gut on this.

“I have no insight in the minds of small children,” RK900 answered pensively. “We might as well follow the advice of your grandmother.”

It was not his grandmother’s wisdom that found them the boy, it was RK900 extensive scanning of the perimeter. 

Little Jackson was playing happily with a toy car, accompanied by five other children of around his age. The other kids were all cousins from the same family, it turned out; the adults thought Jackson was the child of the family that was sitting a little behind them and had let him play with their kids without a second thought.

The boy was perfectly fine, until RK900 tried to make friends with him. The android got down to the kid’s eye level, had the friendly blank face on and really made an effort.   
And it tanked.  _ Yikes.  _ It even made Gavin feel bad. Maybe RK900 wasn’t a real human, but he certainly tried.

Jackson was reunited with his family, the mother crying tears of joy. The kid didn’t really understand all the fuss, he just wanted candy. And get away from the scary android. This time it wasn’t even that hard to interpret the android’s expression; it was clearly pained. 

“Thank you so much, officer!” the father exclaimed, shaking Gavin’s hand. 

“Actually, you’ve got my partner to thank,” Gavin said, gesturing to RK900 a little to his left. “It… he found Jackson with his scanner thingy.”

Shaking hands with the grateful parents perked the android up a little, Gavin could see it in the way he held his head. Maybe RK900 had more human traits than he initially thought, awkwardness stemming from insecurity instead of strict programming. 

Gavin paused his own line of thinking.  _ Great _ , what was next? Him starting to actually like having RK900 as his partner?!  
“Whatever,” Gavin grumbled under his breath, looking around for a vendor that sold soft drinks or something similar. A cold beer would be more welcome, yet that would have to wait until he got home later tonight.   
“Come on, let’s get a move on,” he called back at his partner. “I could use a drink.”

“That’s new,” the android mused as he fell into step with Gavin. “Your use of proper pronouns for me. What has changed, detective?”

_ God damn it _ . He forgot about RK900’s annoying habit to speak his mind.   
“Shut it, you plastic prick. Or I shove a q-tip so far up your ear it’ll put you back to factory settings. That’ll be a nice change.”

“I don’t know if you’d be able to reach high enough, detective,” came the teasing retort. At least, it was in the tone that Gavin had learned to recognise as sarcasm. RK900 may be awkward in most social situations, he had quickly learned how to oppose all the insults and snarky remarks Gavin threw his way. Gavin highly suspected Connor’s hand in that. Or Hank’s. Hell, they probably teamed up against him, as usual.

 

***

 

The stifling heat of the day eased up when the sun went down and Gavin was glad for it. His polo was clinging to his back and his hair underneath his DPD cap was uncomfortably damp. Gavin was glad with their current look out spot in a more empty corner of the main field of the park, there was a slight breeze to be felt here. He held his shirt away from his back with one hand, hoping the wind would get under there.  
Of course, Mr. Plastic Fantastic had no such problems. The only thing he could see the android do was touch his neck repeatedly, covering the base with his hand shortly. He’d been doing that ever since he had changed his clothes.

“What’s the matter, tin can? Missing that stupid turtleneck of yours?”

The android quickly put his hand back to his side again, apparently feeling caught. However, he answered honestly, as he usually did whenever Gavin asked him a question. Just one of those things about him that could make shit awkward real quick.  
“This shirt has a lower neckline than I’m used to. I feel somewhat… exposed.”

Gavin barked a laugh. “Exposed? That’s a good one! You’re fucking made out of Kevlar or something! How can a tank feel exposed?”

“I suppose it’s more of a psychological than a physiological reaction,” RK900 said somewhat defensively, falling back on his default stance of his hands clasped behind his straight back. The LED on his temple flashed blue - yellow - blue - yellow - yellow - blue.

“I’d say it’s more of a software malfunction,” Gavin snorted, before emptying the last of his drink and disposing the soda bottle in a nearby trash can. 

With his back to RK900 he didn’t saw him approach, so Gavin felt somewhat entitled for yelping embarrassingly when he was suddenly tackled to the ground. Luckily the sound of his voice was drowned out by the fireworks that had just started.   
“What the fuck, plastic?!” he yelled, pushing himself up from under the android’s protective crouch. 

RK900 let him go, his eyes big in confusion and his LED flashing red before it became a pulsing yellow. He straightened, looking warily around them and to the sky.

Gavin glared at his partner, considering whether hitting him would be worth the pain in his hand. He settled for cursing him out. “What the fuck was that for, you stupid piece of plastic!”

The android looked at him, his LED still yellow. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I…”

Fireworks coloured the darkening sky, complementing the light of his partner’s LED. For all it’s worth, the android looked somewhat embarrassed.

“What the fuck,” Gavin chuckled. “The fireworks scared you!”

“I was distracted,” RK900 shot back, not denying Gavin’s claim. “The sudden sound surprised me.”

“And you thought tackling me to the ground was the best approach?”

“It would be if we were really being shot at,” his partner stated coolly, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looking away. 

And  _ fuck _ , Gavin had no smartass reply to that. The android thought they were being shot at and he protected Gavin, shielding him with his body.

After an uncomfortable silence, with only the loud sounds of the fireworks being heard, Gavin scraped his throat.   
“This uh… this is your first time seeing fireworks?”

“I was activated 5 months ago,” RK900 answered. “So, yes.”  
The android’s LED was a calm blue again and he had moved a few steps forward, as if he wanted to get a closer look at the fireworks. 

Gavin moved to stand next to him, tilting his neck to look up at the sky. “I always forget you’re still a baby,” he said quietly. It was more for himself than for the android, yet he knew RK900 would be able to hear him anyway.  
“Happy Fourth of July, tin can.”


End file.
